Mine
by AMiserableLove
Summary: Killian corners Emma while she's in the shower and the two of them come to terms with their relationship. Based off tumblr prompt by shulesaddict77 who requested shower sex. This story is what the prequel story The Times is based off of. Originally posted on tumblr.


_**Prompt: Shower sex.**_

_**Lots of smut. That is all.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.**_

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She was furious.

Swinging the door to her apartment open, Emma stalked inside, flinching a bit with the loud resonating bang that sounded throughout the empty loft as she slammed it shut again behind her. Whipping her leather jacket off, she threw it to the ground in a huffing fit and feeling her anger continuing to simmer inside of her, threatening to bubble up and boil over, she made her way to the stairs, marching up them heavily with loud and exaggerated stomps.

"Fucking pirate," she muttered to herself as she pushed the bathroom door open with a quick shake of her head and a small frown. Striding over to the shower, she turned the water on, twisting the knobs so that the temperature was bordering on scalding. "Stupid fucking pirate." she hissed again, her fingers moving to the buttons of her shirt, she began undoing them with angry and frustrated movements.

He infuriated her.

He drove her crazy.

He got under her skin.

And what made it all even worse…

They had slept together three times now.

The first time it had happened had been shortly after their return from Neverland—she had showed up on his ship feeling slightly lost and a little desperate and had nearly begged him to take her. The first time had been hard and fast and frantic. Thinking about it, even now, her body trembled and her pulse picked up in pace, the hot images of him pressing her into the bed and driving himself into her, flashing before her eyes. She had left him almost immediately after, telling him it had been a one-time thing. Even then she had known she was speaking a blatant lie.

The second time it had happened she'd been drinking alone at Granny's. The stress of her parents doting, Regina's insistence that she be allowed to have a more active role in Henry's life, and Neal's overall continued presence in Storybrooke, too much for her to handle without the aid of alcohol. He had strolled in shortly after her third beer and without hesitation had joined her. They had proceeded to drink a filthy amount of liquor together, buying each other shots and arguing over nothing of significance. When they had finally closed their tabs the sexual tension between them had been near tangible. The second time had been hasty, raw, and slightly dirty. The alleyway behind the diner had been as far as they had made it before he had pressed her up against the brick wall of the nearest building, taking her hard and fast—their muffled pants echoing throughout the night. And when they had finished she had zipped up her jeans avoiding his eyes, telling him that, _that_ was definitely the last time. He had merely smirked knowingly before wishing her goodnight and disappearing into the darkness.

The third time it had happened, had been on the anniversary of Graham's death. She had been alone in her apartment, staring at an unopened bottle of wine and crying silently—the tears had come suddenly, both depressing her and taking her by surprise. She missed him, still grieving the unfair loss of life. He had been a good man; slowly he had chipped away at the walls she had stacked around her, helping her to tentatively consider the distant and scary notion of trust. Still thinking of him, she had just been about to call it a night when Hook had barged into her apartment, dark and striking—his casual words to her had faded to a mere tisking noise when he had seen the tears in her eyes and the trembling of her lips. The third time had been slow, gentle, and meaningful. He had scooped her up without a word and she had let him, allowing him to walk her up the stairs to her bedroom—she hadn't even attempted stop him when he had laid her on the bed. And when he had ghosted his lips over hers, whispering sweet words of endearment, she had placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, quietly asking him to stay. When she came that night, he had wiped away the fallen tears that had escaped her eyes, following her shortly after and collapsing onto her unsteadily. Afterwards neither of them had spoken, words of regret and assurances that it wouldn't happen again stuck in her throat.

That last time had happened a little over a week ago. Since then, she hadn't really seen him around town—whether she was avoiding him or he avoiding her, she was uncertain.

Regardless they had steered clear of each other.

Until today.

She had been arguing with Neal after running into him outside of the station. He had made a snide comment about his lack of time with Henry and she had snapped back, angry that yet another person was attempting to monopolize her son's time. Calling her out, Neal had stepped into her personal space, quipping about how he had rights and how just because she was the _goddamn savior_ didn't mean she was a better mother than he was father…it didn't mean she could keep him from _their son_. Sudden, unbridled, anger had shot through her veins at his words and before she could stop herself she had retaliated, shooting a biting and sarcastic remark back. It wasn't long before they were yelling at each other loudly, hurtful words and accusations spilling from their lips.

She hadn't even heard Hook approach.

But suddenly he was there like some dark and dangerous knight, abruptly appearing at her side, he had put himself in between them while leveling Neal with a dark and angry glare. Softly, in a low voice, he had suggested Neal leave, his body tense and his fingers twitching on the hilt of the sword he still occasionally wore. And with the deadly tone of his voice ringing between the trio, his stare had burned into Neal intense and unwavering.

Neal had flickered his gaze between them, surprise and confusion drifting over his features, before, with a slow shake of his head, he had backed away, leaving them without another word.

Watching as he walked away Emma's heart had pounded, her thoughts had scattered—Hook's presence, his words and his angry glare, had been threatening, dangerous and_ possessive_. And even while a thrill had raced through her fast, something inside of her had rejected it.

She had snapped.

Screaming at him, she had shoved him hard in the chest once, twice, calling him a goddamn barbarian, telling him to mind his own business while reminding him that she could take care of her own problems.

_She wasn't his to worry about. _

And then, without another word, she had walked away, leaving him silently staring after her, the most likely unwarranted anger still burning within her.

With a sigh, Emma shrugged out of her shirt and dropped her pants and underwear, stepping out of them, she quickly hopped into the shower—letting out a low moan as the almost too hot water hit her skin. Immediately some of the built up stress and tension that had gathered in her muscles began to lessen. And turning her head up towards the warm spray she closed her eyes, allowing the water to run down her body, washing away her worries and hardships from the day. Slowly she let her mind begin to drift, the rush of the shower loud in her ears, she let the world fall away as she stood unmoving with her head tilted upwards.

"Now that's a sight I'll not be forgetting anytime soon."

Gasping at the low sound of Hook's smooth and lilting voice, she shot her eyes open, her gaze landing on him as he casually leaned against the frame of the shower door, his good hand rubbing the stubble of his chin, his eyes roaming over her nude body, unabashedly appraising her.

"What the hell!" She cursed at him, resisting the urge to cover herself, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her thrown off guard and slightly embarrassed.

"Good gods Emma each time I see you…I swear you're more enchanting than the last."

Swallowing thickly, she narrowed her eyes, trying to slow her suddenly fast beating heart, she attempted to calm her quick and unsteady breathing. And as the water continued to fall on her, trickling over her, she silently thanked God she had run it so hot, the heat of the shower having already flushed her skin, hiding the blush that was creeping across her body fast.

"Get the hell out of here Hook."

He raised a brow, his blue eyes daring her and challenging her words. "I think not darling…I actually intend on joining you." And raising a hand to his shirt, he swiftly began to undo the buttons, seemingly ignoring the squeak of protest she made as he shrugged out of his clothing.

"I swear to God… don't even think about it or—"

He flashed her a lazy smile and without a moment's hesitation, drew the laces of his pants, ridding himself of them just as swiftly as he had his shirt. "Or what sweetheart?"

Sucking in a breath, she averted her gaze and cursed inwardly, annoyed by his smug calmness. Staring over his shoulder, she tried to ignore the many tumultuous feelings that rushed through her fast, colliding together in a big mess of emotions.

Anger. Lust. Fear, Need.

"I'm not playing games Hook. Put your goddamn clothes on and get out of my house or I'll throw your ass in jail."

He merely grinned at that, continuing to let his gaze wander over her, "And the charges?"

"How about breaking and entering for starters?"

His answer was merely a low hum, and a slow step towards her.

Raising a hand to ward him off, she shook her head fast, frowning as the water sprayed in her face, causing her to blink rapidly and lose her bearings. With a sigh, she stepped backwards, out of the direct line of the shower, her back hitting the cool bathroom tiles, a shiver ran through her fast at the surprising contact. "I'm serious Hook. Leave. I'm—I'm not your plaything to just fuck around with whenever you see fit. You got it? This is not okay…you have no right to barge in here just because you feel like it, just because you want to have a quickie…you…" She paused her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it echoing in her ears—his silence, his cool unblinking gaze were quickly unnerving her. "You have no claim over me…I'm not yours." She finished lamely, and a voice in her head chuckled cruelly at the faltering words.

_Liar,_ it whispered in an unforgiving tone.

Something in his eyes flashed at her softly spoken statement and in the blink of an eye, he moved towards her fast, the shower door slamming loudly behind him with the action. Before she could react, before she could even think, he had her turned around and facing the wall, a knee teasingly wedged between her thighs, his good arm braced above her, his hook resting at the small of her back—the feel of still cool steel and the hot spray of running water causing her to shudder.

"Emma." He whispered softly, his lips at her neck, the possessive tone shot desire straight through her veins—the rushing need hot in her blood.

Biting her bottom lip she shook her head, resisting the urge to lean back into him, needing to prove to him…_to herself_…that she was capable of refusing him. Seemingly sensing her hesitation, his lips quirked into a small smile against her skin, and with the slight movement, desire continued to pool warm within her.

"Tell me you don't want this, tell me you truly don't desire this and I'll leave," he murmured hotly, his body pressing into hers ever so slightly.

Closing her eyes Emma let her mouth fall open, a small whimper escaping her lips, she tried to fight it, she tried to deny him, but the all-consuming need for him was taking a hold of her fast, unwilling to let go.

"Tell me Emma and I'll go." He said softly, his hypnotizing voice just barely carrying over the rush of the water and the loud buzzing in her head.

She was falling fast—she didn't have the strength to push him away.

Incapable of speaking, and feeling somewhat defeated, she pushed her body back into his, gasping when she felt his hard length pressing against her, shuddering when he swore under his breath, moaning when he latched his lips to her neck—sucking and nipping lightly.

And unable to stop it, reluctant to even try, she let her senses overtake her. Unwilling to think things through, she allowed her body to be consumed by the feel of him pressed against her—his lips hot on her skin, his smooth hook running up and down her back.

And just like that she was gone.

There was no coming back.

When his good hand moved from the wall, drifting down the side of her body, across her taut stomach, and lower still, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and held her breath—waiting for him to touch her, needing for him to end the aching need that had gathered between her legs.

"Please," she whispered softly, the word slipping from her lips without thought.

And the dark chuckle that followed had her spine going straight and her eyes flashing open. Feeling her head begin to clear she was about to spit out a biting remark when, without warning, he plunged one finger and then quickly another deep inside her—all thoughts and reservations flying from her head as he began to stroke her intimately.

"Oh God."

With a shudder she fell back against his chest, the hot and biting water running over them only stoking the flames of her desire. Moaning as he pumped his clever fingers in and out of her fast, his free arm wrapping around her middle, resting just under her breasts, she made no attempt to struggle as he held her to him, continuing to work her.

"Mine," he murmured the word against her skin, his tongue running down her neck and up again, his teeth nipping and scratching.

She wanted to deny his words, to shake her head at him, to tell him he was wrong. She didn't belong to him. She was no one's.

But for as much as she longed to refuse him…she knew it would be a lie. He had already claimed her body, and she feared the rest of her was on the brink of following. And shaking her head at the notion, not ready to accept it, she thrust her hips up towards his knowing fingers, allowing herself to absorb every heated sensation he forced upon her, hoping to chase away the unwanted thoughts.

Soon her body started to tremble.

When his thumb began to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers continued to fuck her slowly and deeply, she moaned huskily, knowing if he continued his sinful ministrations she'd come. And not ready to reach that point yet, not without him buried deep within her, she shook her head, trying to block out everything—needing him to stop.

"Hook—"

"Killian." He growled, with a thrust of his hips into her back.

The jolt surprised her, and crying out she shuddered almost uncontrollably—the feeling of his fingers inside of her and his length teasingly pressed behind her almost too much to take. "Killain." She breathed—the word coming out choked and broken.

He made a sound that was lost somewhere between a grunt and a growl, and moving his hooked hand from where it rested beneath her breasts, he brought it to the side of her face. Stroking her cheek softly with the gleaming metal, he placed light pressure on it, turning her head, so that she was straining her neck and looking back at him. Quickly he claimed her mouth, kissing her hotly, taking her roughly, and branding her with his lips, teeth and tongue.

The feeling of his lips on hers, his fingers inside of her, his body pressed against her, was too much for her to handle. Pleasure shot through her fast, taking her by surprise and shocking her near senseless. With a choked cry she came violently, clenching around his fingers as he continued to pump them into her, drawing the orgasm out even as she sobbed for him to stop—his sensual assault nearly overwhelming.

And as she came down from her high, collapsing against him, her body, feeling both boneless and satisfied, tingled in the aftermath. Dimly she noticed when he moved his fingers out of her, his good hand coming up and wrapping around her, he held her limply against him, supporting her weight. With the hot spray of water running over them and her ragged breathing echoing loudly in her ears, she had just begun to steady her pounding heart and racing thoughts when she felt his lips move against her ear.

"Mine." He whispered again, and then turning her, he pushed her against the wall fast.

Her eyes went wide when he hooked an arm beneath her knee and wrapped her leg around his waist, pressing them intimately together. Supporting most of her weight, he made eye contact with her for a moment, his blue eyes flashing and intense, the emotions there stormy, raw, and frightening. And seeing the honesty in his gaze, she felt tears prick at her eyes as something heavy settled in her gut—her heart clenched and whispered revelations rang in her head.

Eyes locked, chests heaving, breaths mingling; he took her, thrusting into her hard. Lifting her chin upwards she cried out as he pumped into her, his movements fast and harsh, bordering on rough. And loving the feeling, needing more of it, she clawed at his back, pulling him closer.

It was too much and not enough all at the same time.

With her body still over sensitive from her recent orgasm, she couldn't help the steady flow of whimpers and moans that fell from her lips, the sound seemingly exciting and pleasing him as he continued to pump into her hard.

"So good," he whispered hotly, his lips mere inches away from hers, their gasps and pants becoming one in the same. "So, so, good Emma."

As he continued to take her, the feeling of him stretching her, filling her, and hitting her in just the right place, caused her head to go dizzy as pleasure began to build rapidly inside of her once again. Nearly breathless, her arms tightened around his neck as her legs trembled with both enervation and anticipation.

"Killian," she whispered, her breath feathering across his lips, she moaned as his grip on her leg tightened and he hoisted it higher around his waist, changing the angle and thrusting into her more deeply.

"You're mine Emma." he told her. Slamming into her hard once, she cried out as her back hit the tiles, her head rapping lightly against the wall.

Stilling inside of her, he stared down at her, his blue eyes bright and blazing—the fierce intensity flashing within them causing her throat to tighten and her stomach to do a strange little flip-flopping dance. Continuing to stare at her unblinklingly, his gaze silently telling her not to look away, he began moving again—slowly, deeply, purposefully. And opening her mouth on a silent moan, she relished in his tormenting strokes. Thrusting her hips up to meet his, she drew him in deeper with greedy and insatiable need.

"Say it," he whispered, pulling out and slamming into her again, he stroked her shallowly, tauntingly teasing her.

Whimpering, she felt her walls begin to clench around him, threatening her approaching orgasm and drawing a groan from him. "Say what?" she rasped, digging her nails into his back again, she urged him to move deeply within her once more.

Seemingly taking note of her silent encouragement, he thrust into her hard once and then twice and drawing a slew of unintelligible words from her, he stilled again, smiling darkly when she let out a frustrated huff. "Say you're mine Emma…" he moved within her slowly, "because you are…" stopping abruptly again, he waited for her to meet his gaze, "_mine._"

Knowing she was close, aware there was no turning back…from her release, from him, from the _inevitable_, she nodded fast, and canting her hips up, she grasped the back of his neck. "Yes…yes, I'm yours." she murmured, before pulling him in for a hot and desperate kiss.

He whispered something soft against her lips, something that was terrifying—that sounded like _love_ and that promised commitment, but before she could clearly decipher what it was he had said—his tongue tangled with hers again, and his hips pumped against hers once more.

His thrusts were hurried and frenzied—clearly he was just as close to losing control as she. And with the realization, suddenly she was_ there,_ standing over that looming edge.

Feeling her body beginning to tense, her walls tightened almost painfully, and bringing him closer, she forced him even deeper. And as he hit her in just the right spot once again, she felt the building orgasm inside of her, quickly bubble up and burst suddenly—his name tumbling from her lips as she came—waves that were the perfect mixture of both pleasure and pain, crashing around her as she rode out the sensations.

"Emma." He whispered her name, the sound gruff, broken and harsh. Pushing into her again, she whimpered as she felt him begin to pulse deep inside of her, the hot feeling of him letting go drawing out her own pleasure. Closing her eyes, she couldn't help the satisfied smile that slowly spread across her lips when he lowered his head to the side of her neck and groaned, his body shaking and his breathing stinted—the low sounds of his orgasm causing her thighs to clench involuntarily around him.

When they were spent, breathing heavily, the water running loud and going cold, slowly she unhooked her leg from around his waist before unwrapping her arms from his neck. Bracing herself against the cool wall she stared up at him curiously, from under hooded eyes.

Something significant, something that neither of them could turn away from had just occurred.

And while she was terrified, she couldn't help but notice the dim feeling of excitement…_of hope…_that slowly began to inch its way into her mind. Watching as the running water trickled down his face, clinging to his unruly hair, she reached up and brushed away a dark wet strand. Noticing the way his blue eyes softened, the intensity dimming to gentleness, she felt her heart begin to warm as a small smile worked its way across her lips.

And raising herself onto her toes, she tenderly pressed a light, nearly chaste kiss against his lips, before whispering softly in a voice that was thick with unmasked emotion.

"Mine."

_**END.**_

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_Review?_

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